


die Hexe

by sweetheart35



Category: D. Gray Man
Genre: Characters Tagged As They Appear, Gen, Gore, Hurt, I'm not any good at angst so that might change, Miranda deserves so much love, Miranda sees ghosts, Miscarriage, OC ghosts - Freeform, Referenced/implied child abuse, cross-posted to tumblr and ff.net, not a whole lot of comfort right now, the 1800s was not a nice place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8673238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheart35/pseuds/sweetheart35
Summary: Miranda had been able to see ghosts as long as she could remember. She could see them before that; back when her Mama used to smile at her, Miranda remembered sitting in front of her Mama in the living room, a comb being tugged gently through her curls and listening to stories of Miranda when she was a baby. Miranda apparently used to look at things no one else could see and when she was old enough to form sounds babbling at empty rooms.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated this chapter a little bit. It's not anything major, but I needed to rearrange some things for later character development.

“It’s not normal, Franz. _She’s_ not normal.” Miranda huddled closer to the wall as she crouched outside her parents’ bedroom door. A thin strip of light from the lamp shone under the crack of the door. Her thin nightgown did little to ward off the natural chill of a late September night and even less to ward off the chill of the figure hovering close behind her. This one wasn’t sure if Miranda could see them or not, but she was steadfastly pretending she couldn’t. It was easier that way. Ghosts were notorious gossips and if one found out she could see them, then others would too and Miranda was already having a hard enough time trying to blend in and act normal.

“I know, Liesel.” Miranda’s father sounded exhausted. “I know she’s not, but what are we supposed to do?” There was rustling and the bed creaked as he shifted. Miranda thought longingly of her bed, probably cold now, but after today’s incident…

She needed to know what her parents were going to do.

“We could send her to the convent,” Liesel said quietly. Miranda’s breath caught in her throat and she hastily covered her mouth with her hands, trying to hold back the squeak that threatened to escape. She’d just gotten back from the convent a few days ago; she didn’t want to go back. Mother Superior had been strict and impartial, but when the nuns got wind of why Miranda’s parents had sent her their voices and actions had turned vicious. ‘Demon child’ left a very lasting impression on an eight-year-old girl. After she’d been attacked by some of the older girls, Mother Superior had sent Miranda back for her own safety.

“She just got back,” Franz protested. “They won’t take her again, especially not so soon. I told you what Mother Superior said.”

“There are other convents, Franz. Further away,” her mother said insistently. “We just won’t tell them why we’re sending her.” Miranda shook her head in denial, as if she could persuade her father not to agree to that. She didn’t want to go away. She wanted to stay with her parents, even if that made her selfish. She could tell her parents didn’t really want her around, that she was a burden and they resented not having a ‘normal’ child. But she loved them and she tried so hard!

“We can’t afford to send her that far,” Franz said. “And not by herself. It’s too dangerous. Maybe if we can save up for it and I can go with her.” Miranda breathed a sigh of relief and ignored the ghost as it shifted, leaning casually through her and trying to get a reaction. It had scared her this afternoon, but Miranda was determined it wouldn’t again.

“The rest of the town is starting to talk,” Liesel persisted, her voice chilly. Miranda could picture the look on her face: mouth drawn in a thin line, eyes flat in disapproval. “After her episode this afternoon –“

“Miranda is an easily startled girl,” Franz interrupted. “We’ll tell people she is simply tired from her travels and she saw a large spider.”

“Oh, yes,” Liesel snapped, her voice rising a little. “A spider large enough to send her into a fit of hysterics and pass out. Certainly the shoemaker will believe that when we go back tomorrow. If we stick with that story, then soon we’ll have a town that’s overrun with large spiders that _no one else sees!_ ”

“What do you want me to do, Liesel?” Franz demanded, his voice getting louder. “The convent won’t take her and we can’t afford to send her away further. Putting her out on the streets isn’t an option!”

The ensuing silence was telling. Miranda waited, breath bated, hoping her mother would agree, would say something, but there was nothing. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began backing away carefully. The ghost refused to move out of her personal space, but Miranda was shaking so much she barely even noticed. She crept quietly back to her room, careful to be silent until she was safely back under her covers, her face buried in her pillow and her shoulders shaking with muffled sobs.

///

The atmosphere at breakfast the next morning was tense when Miranda ventured downstairs. The ghost was still there, glowering at her from the corner, his entire being thrown into stark relief. He’d had a painful death, she could tell. He had most of his insides gathered into one armful propped against his side. Blood was smeared all the way up his face. Miranda watched him from the corner of her eye as she slipped into her seat at breakfast, morbidly curious about his insides now that he wasn’t popping up out of nowhere and scaring her.

Her mother dropped a plate of food in front of her and turned away, her shoulders squared and tense. Miranda ducked her head, murmuring a quiet thank you and not daring to say anything further. Her father flicked the corner of his paper irritably at the noise but didn’t say anything. Miranda ate as quickly as possible without being rude before tentatively piping up.

“May I be excused?” Both of her parents looked startled to hear her but after a moment, her father nodded and Miranda scrambled to take her plate to the sink before darting quickly out the door, letting it slam behind her. She ducked into the alley by her house and didn’t stop until she was crouched behind a rain barrel. This was one of her favorite place. No one could see her from the street and so far no one had died in this alley so no ghosts hung around. They could always meander through, of course, but ghosts tended to stick around the places they had strong ties to, like where their family was or where they died.

Miranda slumped against the wall, knees pulled to her chest and watched some ants scurry around on the ground. One came up to her shoe, considered it and then hurried away. Animals and insects didn’t really like Miranda. Cats ran away from her and dogs growled when she came near. That was fine. Miranda didn’t really like them either. The dogs were big and their teeth scared her. The cats had sharp claws. Insects were just gross.

“Why don’t you go play with the other kids?” A gruff voice made her jump and Miranda scrambled to her feet only to be met with the ghost who had been following her since yesterday. He was an older man, with a graying beard and big burly arms, with worn clothes. She had to look way up to see his face. He looked just as startled at her reaction as Miranda was at him before frowning. “I thought you couldn’t see me.” Miranda fidgeted with her dress, staring at her shoes. It was plain and drab, since her parents couldn’t afford anything else.

“I can,” she admitted quietly. She could feel tears welling in her eyes. Now that he knew she could see him she felt awful for ignoring him and pretending he wasn’t there. She got enough of that at home and she didn’t like it at all. “I’m sorry but if you knew then others might know and there’s too many of you.” He ‘hmm’d and didn’t say anything. Miranda continued fidgeting and didn’t look up.

“Why don’t you play with the other kids?” He asked again and to Miranda’s surprise he sat down beside her rain barrel. Tentatively she sat down again and darted a quick look at his torso, where his insides were still tucked against his side before looking away again.

“They don’t like me,” she answered after a moment. “They think I’m weird.” The man snorted and crossed his legs. His guts made a slight squelching noise as he shifted. Miranda stole another look, strangely fascinated by them.

“You are weird,” he pointed out. “I’m dead and you can see me.” Miranda didn’t respond but she could feel tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her view of the ground. She already _knew_ that, she didn’t need some ghost coming and telling her that all over again! She sniffled and she heard the ghost let out a gusty sigh. “Stop crying, kid. None of the kids like you at all?”

“N-not in my neighborhood,” Miranda shook her head, trying to stop. “T-they used to just call me w-weird but t-then –“ she gulped in a breath of air, trying to hold her tears back, failing miserably “ – I came b-back from t-t-the convent and n-now they say God doesn’t l-love me and – and that the r-reason I got sent away was because not even my parents w-want me!” She scrubbed at her cheeks. “And I’m not allowed to go to other neighborhoods by myself but Mama doesn’t let me play with the other kids anyway.”

“So you just sit behind this rain barrel all day?” The ghost asked. He didn’t sound very impressed. Miranda tried not to take it personally. No one was impressed with her. She was plain and wore plain colors and was strange.

She looked down at her feet instead, her cheeks reddening.

“Where’s your coat?” The ghost demanded suddenly. Miranda jumped, her cheeks coloring.

“I forgot it,” she mumbled.

“It’s almost October,” he said reprovingly. And how upsetting was it that a dead man cared more about her immediate wellbeing than her parents. Miranda poked at the ground and tried to think of a way to distract him.

“Can you get cold?” She asked. He looked surprised. Miranda thought maybe that was how he looked when he died. It was easy to imagine, with the blood all over his face.

“I’m always cold,” he snapped, scowling. “But I haven’t been dead so long I’ve forgotten how cold it gets in the winter. Now you -”

“How did you die?” Miranda interrupted. She was fascinated to see his cheeks color just as if he was still alive.

“None of your damn business,” he snapped and then he was gone. Miranda sighed and slumped back against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest. If she tucked herself against the barrel and the wall and crossed her arms, she really wasn’t that cold, but Miranda didn’t want to sit there all day and the ghost was right. She did need her coat. If she waited a little longer, Mama would be out running errands and Papa would be heading to work and she could sneak back in grab it. If she got some bread then she wouldn’t need to worry about heading in for lunch, either. Tomorrow she would have to go back to school but today she would have time to spend by herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Miranda was supposed to have a little sister. She was five and a half when Mama and Papa sat her down, their faces shining to tell her she was going to be a big sister. Miranda had been just as delighted and excited as they had hoped she would be. Miranda demanded to meet the baby now and Mama had laughed and said she would have to wait, they weren’t ready to come yet. Her father had laughed at the pout on Miranda’s face and swung her up in a circle, Miranda giggling with delight.

The next several months had passed in a flurry. Franz was trying to work as much as possible, to make it easier when the baby came. Liesel could be found repairing Miranda’s old baby clothes and knitting new blankets and socks. Miranda dogged her mother’s heels, pestering her with questions about the baby: when will it be here? Would she have a little brother or a little sister? How did she take care of a little sibling? Could she hold them? Liesel would smile, kiss the top of her head and answer her questions patiently no matter how many times Miranda asked them.

As her mother’s belly grew rounder and Miranda wondered why the baby was in there of all places, the neighboring ladies began flitting in and out of the home, bringing gifts that Liesel could use for the baby. Miranda might’ve been jealous if most of them hadn’t also brought a small sweet for her every time they came. Miranda had carefully tucked some away, declaring to be saving them for the baby, causing the ladies to laugh and coo and Liesel to encourage her to eat them since they wouldn’t last long enough anyway.

The little room next to Miranda’s suddenly held a crib. The wood was rough and it wasn’t pretty at all, but the mattress soft when Miranda put her hand on it. There was a small chest that held the baby’s clothes and blankets in the corner and a box that held some toys in another corner. Miranda spent a lot of time the room, imagining what it would be like to play with the baby and teach them things and hug them. Maybe the baby would be able to see the hurt people too.

Miranda wasn’t sure how she felt about that particular thought. Mama said she had an active imagination but Miranda knew they were there and they were real. They scared her sometimes, especially at night when they moved with abandoned and Miranda could see them out in the streets, their whispers making up the wind. But it would be nice to have someone to share that with, so Miranda wouldn’t have to be alone.

Soon the doctor began coming over, telling Miranda it was almost time for her to meet to her new little brother or sister. Miranda sat next to her mother while the doctor did the check-ups, her head resting on Liesel’s swollen belly and giggling every time she felt the baby kick, delighted they were already trying to play with her.

Miranda was happy. Her parents were happy. They didn’t think they would be able to have another child after Miranda. Their little family was going to include one more.

Then one day everything went horribly wrong.

Liesel was finishing up getting breakfast together. Franz was getting ready for work and Miranda was playing quietly in the corner while she waited for her mother to call her to the table. All the sudden her mother gasped, hunching over and placing a hand on her stomach. Miranda sat up right, watching her worriedly.

“Franz!” She called, her voice conveying only a little urgency. “Franz!” Franz ran into the room, his shoes still untied. “Call the doctor!” His eyes widened.

“Is it time?” He asked and Miranda would’ve laughed at the look on his face if he hadn’t sounded so panicked. Her mother took a deep breath and nodded. Her face scrunched up.

“Do you need anything – “Franz started moving towards her.

“The doctor, Franz, I need the doctor!” He nodded, collected himself and then ran out the door. Liesel’s eyes found Miranda and she tried for a smile. She didn’t quite succeed but she held her hand out to Miranda, who hurried over to her instantly, grasping it.

“Mama?” Her little voice was hesitant and scared. Liesel managed a real smile this time and she smoothed Miranda’s hair down.

“It’s all right, darling,” she murmured. “The baby decided it wants to come today.” Miranda frowned and put her hand on her mother’s belly.

“How?” She asked. Liesel began gingerly moving towards the stairs.

“My body…my body has a special to push the baby out,” she explained, taking deep breaths. “Now, do you remember what we talked about? What you’re supposed to do?” Miranda nodded.

“Go to Fraulein Schultz’s house next door once Papa comes back with the doctor and wait until Papa comes to get me,” she recited dutifully.

“Good girl,” Liesel praised. She began climbing the stairs, one hand clutching the railing, the other still holding Miranda’s hand. They had just made it to her parents’ bedroom when the front door opened and Franz ran in, followed by the doctor who was much calmer, but moving nearly as fast. Franz and the doctor entered the room, where Franz began hovering anxiously around Liesel who exchanged an indulgent look with the doctor.

“Franz, will you take Miranda to Fraulein Schultz now?” Liesel prompted. Franz nodded and scooped Miranda up. Liesel leaned over to press a kiss to Miranda’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon, darling, and you’ll be able to meet the baby.”

“Love you, Mama,” Miranda said, returning the kiss clumsily before leaning back into Franz’s hold, who shifted to hold her more securely.

“I’ll be back soon, Liesel,” he promised, leaning in for a kiss of his own before heading down the stairs.

///

When Franz came to get Miranda, it wasn’t with the joyous air of a man who had just become a father for the second time. Miranda was playing in the back room and it was getting late enough she was starting to think she would have dinner with Fraulein Schultz when she heard the front door open and her father’s voice. She hurried to the door, eager to greet him and go home.

“ – sorry, Herr Lotto.” Fraulein Schultz’s voice was soft and regretful. Miranda paused just inside the entrance to the front room, hiding behind the frame.

“Thank you, Fraulein Schultz.” Franz’s voice was heavy and rough, as if he’d been crying. “It will be difficult telling Miranda. She was so looking forward to having a little sister.”

“Indeed. She would have made a wonderful big sister,” Fraulein Schultz murmured. “I could hardly get her to eat lunch, she was so excited.” There was a pause. “I’ll go and get her for you. She’s playing in the back room.” Miranda quietly slipped back down the hall and when Fraulein Schultz came in they just looked at each other.

“How much did you hear?” Fraulein Schultz asked quietly.

“I don’t have a sister,” Miranda said quietly, staring down at the doll she was borrowing. Fraulein Schultz came over and crouched down beside her, smoothing back her hair and kissing the top of her head, before taking her hand and leading her to the front room.

///

Miranda jolted awake and lay still, breathing quietly as she knew how and listening hard for…something. She couldn’t see far beyond the edge of her bed, just able to make out the shadowy shapes of her dresser and bedroom door. But she thought she heard –

A baby’s cry.

Coming from the nursery.

She bolted upright and slipped quietly out of her bed and headed for the hall. She paused to glance at her parents’ room, but it remained dark and quiet. Miranda turned away and headed for the nursery, pushing the door open quietly. It took her a moment, but her eyes adjusted enough for her to make her way over to the lantern and very carefully light it just like Papa had shown her. That finished, Miranda turned to face the crib.

The baby was naked, her little face scrunched up and red while she wailed. Miranda moved closer, already cooing softly. Her own face twisted in distress when she reached through the bars and her hand passed right through the baby. She settled for patting the mattress right by the baby instead.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” Miranda chanted softly. “Shh, shh, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay.” She was gratified when it seemed to work and the wails died down to hiccups. When the baby turned to look at Miranda, she saw her own brown eyes looking at her. Miranda smiled tentatively.

“Are you cold, baby?” Miranda stepped away and got a blanket out of the chest, scurrying back to the crib, and pushed the blanket through the bars. The blanket just fell through the baby, so Miranda arranged it around her carefully, doing her best to tuck it in despite her short arms. “There you go. Is that warmer –“

“Miranda?” Miranda gasped and spun around. Her mother was standing in the door to the nursery, looking tired and confused. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I – I heard a baby, Mama,” Miranda answered. Her mother shut her eyes and Miranda felt guilty for the look of pain that flashed over her face. “She was cold –“

“Come back to bed, Miranda, that’s enough,” Liesel cut across her. The baby, perhaps sensing the distress in the room, started to fidget.

“But, Mama, the baby,” she protested, not wanting to leave her sister. “She’s cold and she’s going to start crying again.” Liesel crossed the room and took the blanket out of the crib.

“There is no baby, Miranda,” she said, folding the blanket roughly and taking it back to the chest.

“Yes, there is, Mama! Right there in the crib –“

It was the first time her mother had ever hit her. Miranda’s head snapped to the side with the force of the blow and she looked up at her mother in shock, her hand covering the blooming red mark on her cheek. Her mother was pale and trembling.

“I said that’s enough, Miranda.” Her voice was harsh. “There is no baby. Go back to bed.”

Miranda went meekly. Her mother watched to make sure she got into bed before pulling the door shut sharply. A moment later, it latched. Miranda wasn’t let out until noon the next day, after Papa had already left for work.

Three days later, after non-stop crying, the baby moved on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Comments? Concerns? Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let you all know that I changed a few things in the first chapter. It wasn't anything huge, but I wanted to save a few things for later in Miranda's life.

School was as awful as Miranda feared it would be. Whispers had erupted as soon as she’d entered the classroom, stopping only under Fraulein Krause’s quelling look. None of the students bothered to be subtle as they shifted their learners and chalkboards over so she couldn’t sit next to them. Miranda stood awkwardly at the front of the room, feeling more like a new student than a girl who’d gone to the same schoolhouse for what seemed like her entire life.

“Miranda, sit down,” Fraulein Krause said. Miranda squeaked, her eyes darting over the seats in a panic, searching for an empty one. “There, Miranda. By Frieda.” The aforementioned girl scowled, but shifted her things obligingly out of the way. Miranda, her face scarlet, moved hesitantly towards the seat. As she did so, Fraulein Krause turned back towards the board and began writing on it. Otis Schmitt stuck his foot out just as Miranda passed him. Miranda let out a small squeal and went flying, her learner and chalkboard shooting down the aisle. Her chalk rolled under someone’s desk, where a foot came down on it, crushing it to powder.

The children tittered. Miranda felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh, Miranda,” Fraulein Krause sighed. “Try not to be so clumsy.” Miranda nodded, keeping her head down, biting her lip in an effort to stop it from trembling.

“Y-yes, Fraulein,” she mumbled, hurrying to pick up her things.

\---

Miranda hid behind the schoolhouse at lunchtime, drawing in the dirt with a stick. She’d made sure to sit on a rock to keep her dress out of the dirt, trying to sit like the lady her mama was teaching her to be.

School had only gotten worse since that morning. She’d had to borrow some chalk from Fraulein Krause. Frieda had swiped it almost as soon as Miranda had turned her back, refusing to give it back. Rather than ask Fraulein Krause for another piece, something that would surely result in a scolding, Miranda had bent over her board, pretending to write down the sums they were working on that morning. Kurt kept jabbing her back whenever Fraulein Krause was talking, trying to get her to yell.

When lunchtime finally came, Miranda had made sure to be the last one out of the schoolhouse while the other children ran home or used their pennies to buy food from the vendors near the school. Miranda had taken her small lunch around the back of the building out of sight of everyone else and had eaten quickly.

She could hear the other children start to come back in groups of two or three, chattering loudly and laughing. She could hear a group of girls playing ring-around-the-rosy just around the corner. She shivered, thinking of the old ghost near the blacksmiths’ lane. That old woman had died of the Black Death. She’d sadly told Miranda that when she’d died, about thirty years ago, the town, much smaller then, had simply burned down her house with her body inside to stop the spread of the disease. About ten years after that, they had started expanding over the place where her home used to be. The woman never got a proper burial and now she didn’t have a body or bones to bury to help her move on.

The girls shrieked with laughter as they all fell down and Miranda hunched over, dropping the stick she’d been drawing with and hugging herself. The woman had been covered in oozing black boils, her body shivering with fever. Miranda had had nightmares for months afterwards, dreaming of her own death.

The sound of voices coming from in front of her caused Miranda to look up. There was a group of three children, playing their own game. Miranda cocked her head to the side, wondering if they were new students. She didn’t remember seeing them before she left for the convent, but they could’ve started after she left. Miranda watched them for a few minutes, considering whether or not to ask to join in their game. If they’d just started they wouldn’t have heard the stories and rumors about her yet and they might let her play with them. She could try and work past the embarrassment of this morning, if it meant having a friend.

She had just clambered to her feet when a ball bounced past the edge of the building. Frieda came chasing after it, snatching it up and turning back to her friends with a grin of triumph. She stopped abruptly when she saw Miranda. The two girls stared at each other for a moment.

“What are you doing back here?” Frieda asked suspiciously. Miranda pointed behind Frieda.

“Oh, um, there were...there were some...children…” Miranda trailed off when she looked back and the group of children were gone. She blinked, her hand dropping slightly. Frieda darted a quick, wary look behind her.

“There aren’t any other kids there, you freak,” she huffed. “All the other kids are playing in front of the building and not being creepy.”

“But -” Miranda started, but Frieda had already turned. “Wait!” She hurried around the side of the building. Frieda had already rejoined her group of friends, whispering to them furiously. As if they sensed Miranda’s gaze, they turned to scowl at her. Miranda took an unconscious step towards them, ready to plead her case. Almost as one, the entire group took a step back. Miranda faltered and then the bell was ringing, calling them back into the schoolhouse.

When Miranda got inside, she wasn’t surprised to find her school things shuffled to the very back corner desk, looking very lonely by themselves.

~-~-~

The grumpy ghost was waiting by the rain barrel when Miranda found her way out there that afternoon. Papa wasn’t home yet and silences between her and her Mama were stifling when Papa wasn’t around to distract her.

“I see you have your coat today,” he grumbled, hefting his intestines higher in his arm. Miranda darted a quick look up at him, before she slid past him to hunker down behind the rain barrel. “How was school?”

“Bad,” she mumbled. The afternoon had been worse than the morning and Miranda had five more years to look forward too. “I lost my chalk and when the teacher let me borrow some, one of the other girls stole it.” She tapped her fingernails against the wall, enjoying the quiet  _ clinking _ sound. “Now I have to ask Papa to buy some more.”

She didn’t think she’d get in too much trouble. Chalk wasn’t expensive, but he would probably lecture her on being irresponsible, even if Miranda tried to explain it wasn’t her fault.

“Ah, well, kids can be little shits,” the ghost said amiably, slapping his free hand against his pockets. Miranda gasped. “Damn, I wish I had a smoke.”

“Mister, you can’t just say that! That’s vulgar language. Mama says so.”

“That so?” He muttered. “Guess you’re right. My ma would have had my tongue for swearing in front of a lady.” Miranda decided not to point out it looked like he didn’t have a tongue anyway.

“I’m not a lady,” she said instead, matter-of-factly.

“You might have a point. Ladies don’t hide behind rain barrels in dirty alleys.” He sat down beside her. “They also don’t talk to strange men.”

“You’re dead,” Miranda pouted. “I don’t think you count.”

“Brat.” But there wasn’t any real heat behind his voice and Miranda allowed herself a tiny smile. “What’s your name?”

“Miranda. What’s yours?”

“Rolf,” he said and peered at her. “They don’t have outside studying for you to do?” Miranda shook her head.

“Not this week,” she answered. “Some of the students have to help finish storing the harvest, so Fraulein Krause didn’t want to interfere with that.” Rolf nodded. “Mr. Rolf? What did you do when you were alive?” It seemed to be a safer question than how he died. He didn’t immediately disappear, at any rate.

“I was a builder,” he said. “I actually helped to build your house. It’s actually only about ten years older than you.”

“Really?” Miranda breathed, amazed. Ten years seemed much older than her, but then, she was almost ten, too. Then she frowned. “Wait, is that why you’re here? I’ve never seen you before.” Rolf smiled. With the blood streaked over his face, anyone would have said it wasn’t a particularly friendly smile, but to Miranda, who hadn’t had anyone smile at her in a very long time, it was one of the nicest things she’d seen in ages.

“I’m here because you screamed when you saw me,” Rolf said. “I wasn’t sure, because maybe you really did see a spider like your parents said, but I had to see.”

“O-oh,” Miranda looked back down at her feet. After a moment, she looked back up at him. “Why?”

Rolf looked surprised, and he didn’t say anything. Miranda waited. It didn’t seem like he really knew why he’d sought her out, either, and she didn’t think he was ignoring her. After a moment, he shrugged.

“Maybe for some company,” he finally answered. “It can get lonely sometimes, being dead.”

“I understand,” Miranda said, reaching out to pat his arm. She went through him. “I know about being lonely.”

“I’m sure you do, kid,” Rolf replied, his smile sad. “I’m sure you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now Miranda has a kind-of friend in the form of a grumpy builder who died some sort of awful death. She's gonna need him.
> 
> I've also based the schooling off what little bit I know from Little House on the Prairie. *shrug*. Miranda is eight here. As far as I know, girls didn't really continue school past 13/14 years of age, which is when Miranda begins looking for a job. I've also used the US school calendar for this. If anyone knows if Germany had their schooling systems set up differently, let me know and I'll adjust it, but it seemed like it would make sense during that time period to have a similar structure.
> 
> Another thing I heard a while ago, and I can't remember where, is that streets were set-up by occupation. So the blacksmiths were all on one lane, the cobblers were on another lane, bakers on another, and so on and so forth. This is how Miranda's town is structured, but if anyone knows anything more how towns and the schooling system in Germany are structured in the 1800s, let me know!


	4. Chapter 4

Miranda was fourteen when she got her first job. She had passed her final exam with flying colors and was anxious to know what her parents would say when she told them her final score. Her father, Miranda already knew, would be pleased. He’d always been the more affectionate parent, though that wasn’t really saying much. But he had always encouraged her learning when he was home. Miranda, however, was more focused on her mother’s reaction. Despite her best efforts, Miranda never seemed to be able to please her.

Liesel Lotto had never forgiven Miranda for...Miranda wasn’t sure what. Not being normal, perhaps. Maybe the death of her second child, though she had loved Miranda before. People called Miranda ‘bad luck’ and ‘the witch’ and ‘demon child’ behind her back. Maybe she even believed them. Miranda believed them sometimes and if she believed them, then Liesel had to.

Why else would she punish Miranda so harshly?

“Well done, Miranda,” Liesel said softly, gifting her with a rare smile. Miranda felt her breath leave her in a quiet rush and she returned the smile tremulously, her hands clasped in front of her, head ducked. Franz relaxed slightly as well.

“What are you going to do now?” Rolf asked gruffly a week later. He and Miranda were meandering their way on a deserted path just on the outskirts of town.

“Get a job, I suppose.” Miranda tugged anxiously on her apron. “There are a few shops who are hiring help near home.” And it’s not as though Miranda had any offers of marriage lined up. Not like Frieda or Ada or any of the other prettier and more talented girls in Miranda’s age group. Otis and the boys had been talking about apprenticeships their parents had gotten them. Miranda wished she was a boy. They weren’t considered burdens on their families if they stayed single for too long. They got to leave home when they were old enough and it wasn’t inappropriate or dangerous for them at all.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a job and helping to support your family,” Rolf said stoutly. Miranda smiled a little. “You’re young yet.”

“The other girls -” Miranda started.

“Are girls,” he interrupted. “And they’ll be married to fat old men who drink too much and gamble their money away before the year is out, you mark my words.”

Miranda thought of Ernst Zimmer, who was tall with thick black hair and striking blue eyes and was twenty-one and from a well-off family. Miranda had run into Frieda just the other day, who was all but glowing with happiness as she told Miranda all about how Herr Zimmer came calling on her father with a request to court his daughter.

.”But don’t worry, Miranda,” Frieda had laughed at the end of it. “I’m sure there’s  _ something _ out there for you. Maybe your parents can scrounge up a innkeeper for you. Or just send you off to a convent again.” And she walked away tittering and leaving Miranda standing alone and upset in the bakery.

“I don’t think that’s true for all of them,” she said miserably. And she wouldn’t wish that one other girls no matter how awful they were to her during school.

“Ah, probably not,” Rolf agreed. He shifted his intestines to his other hand. Miranda wondered what it said about her that the squelching and the sight didn’t bother her anymore. “But that’s no reason for you to try and tie yourself down to someone. You’ve got a few years before you’re a haggard old spinster. It’ll be too late for you once you hit eighteen though.” That startled a laugh out of Miranda and Rolf grinned, looking pleased with himself.

“You’re a sight prettier with that smile, girl,” he said. “The world is too. Try and wear it more often.”

“I’ll try,” Miranda promised, giggling.

\--

“Idiot girl! I told you to watch the bread so it wouldn’t burn!”

“I’m sorry!” Miranda wailed. Herr Schultz towered over, his face red and his mustache all but quivering with rage. She’d known he was a bad-tempered man before she started working for him, but he had been hiring and Franz had started gently hinting it was time for Miranda to seek out a job and if her father was starting to hint then it wouldn’t be long until her mother started outright telling her and Leisel was nowhere near as kind as her husband.

Herr Schultz had been the only one willing to hire on the spot since his workers kept quitting and he was in desperate need of help. Miranda thought if his baked goods weren’t as delicious as they were he would have gone out of business a long time ago.

“I’m sorry! There was a customer that needed tending and it was only going to take a moment -”

“And that moment took long enough that this batch is completely ruined!” He roared and Miranda flinched back, desperately trying to hold back her tears. She flinched and let out a small yelp as an empty bread pan flew past her head and crashed against the wall behind her. The tears spilled over, but Miranda sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep quiet. Herr Schultz had never actually  _ hurt _ any of his workers, not that Miranda had heard, but she’d been warned about these outbursts of anger by the people who’d directed her towards the bakery when she had come around asking for work.

“Get rid of this,” he snarled, “and get started on the next batch. If you’re lucky this won’t come out of your pay.” He stumped out of the kitchen, grumbling darkly under his breath. She caught the words ‘useless’ and ‘no good’. Miranda waited a moment to make sure he didn’t come back before scrubbing at her face with her apron and carefully removing the burned bread from the oven.

She carried the bread to the back door, opening it and leaning out to scrape the small loaves into the trash when something clattered further down the alley. Miranda frowned and stepped out of the doorway, casting a quick look into the kitchen as she did. She could hear the murmur of customers up front and guessed Herr Schultz would be distracted long enough for her to satisfy her curiosity. If not, she could claim some of the bread had to be scraped off.

“Hello?” She called softly. She wasn’t expecting much, maybe a stray dog or cat, but a small dirty boy peering around a trash bin wasn’t it. “Oh! Who are you?”

“My name is Klaus, fraulein,” the boy answered hesitantly. He didn’t move from his hiding spot.

“Hello, Klaus,” Miranda smiled gently. “I’m Miranda. What are you doing back here?” Klaus’s eyes drifted to the tray of blackened loaves and he swallowed before looking back at her. Miranda’s heart broke. “Klaus, are you hungry?”

“Yes, Fraulein Miranda,” he answered. Miranda darted another quick look into the kitchen. Herr Schultz was still up front.

“Well, you’re very brave for coming around Herr Schultz’s bakery,” Miranda whispered. Klaus smiled a little. “I’m afraid I ruined this batch, would you like to take a few loaves?”

“I heard,” Klaus said and Miranda couldn’t help but giggle at the cheek in his tone. His eyes seemed a little brighter, even if his face was dreadfully thin and pale. Miranda held the tray out, keeping a careful ear for Herr Schultz and Klaus darted forward swiping three of the loaves. At Miranda’s questioning look, he explained, “He checks the trash to make sure no one is taking from it, even if he can’t sell the loaves.” He busily began tearing one of loaf apart. The inside was unburned and Klaus scooped some out, shoving it in his mouth.

“What an awful man,” Miranda murmured and immediately felt guilty for saying such a thing, even if it was true. Herr Schultz had hired her and she would receive wages at the end of the week. She scraped the rest of the loaves in the bin. “You’d best be going on then, Klaus. I don’t want him finding you here and taking those from you.” She turned to head back inside. Before she closed the door, she paused and turned back to Klaus, who was getting ready to head to the end of the alley. “If you stop by tomorrow after my shift, I’ll see if I can’t bring something out to you.” Klaus’s eyes went wide.

“Really, fraulein?” He breathed, eyes going wide with disbelief and a faint glimmer of hope. “You’re much nicer than his other helpers!”

Miranda smiled and slipped back inside silently, feeling better for the first time the whole week she’d been working.

\--

Sunday, Miranda put on her best blue dress and braid her hair before twisting it in a knot. She could honestly say her hair was one of the few things about herself that she liked. When it was loose, it hung glossy and shiny, reaching down to her waist and it was easy for her to braid and put up into different hairstyles. Miranda looked at herself in the small mirror above her dresser. If she ignored the bags under her eyes and the way her dress was starting to wear thin, she could almost believe she was pretty, beautiful even.

Rolf was, as always, waiting outside her front door. Her parents walked past him and he fell in step beside her as they headed towards church. Miranda saw the ghost of a woman who had died of sickness the previous winter. The woman alternated between glaring at Rolf balefully and watching Miranda almost greedily. Miranda shifted uncomfortably and averted her gaze.

“They’re still angry I won’t let them near,” Rolf told her quietly, even though no one living could hear him. “You did well to go unnoticed for so long, but now that they know what you are, they want to talk to you.”

After Rolf had tracked her down and forced her to acknowledge him, ghosts had slowly started appearing around Miranda. Rolf had only every shown up when Miranda was in the alley hiding behind her faithful rain barrel, but eventually he had started going places with her and other spirits had started to take notice. None of them had met a living being who could see them. Eventually, they would fade away on their own, but none of them wanted to wait that long and they all seemed to think Miranda could help them.

Rolf kept them away, but every now and then one managed to slip past him. Last year, a man came screaming at Miranda in a language nobody spoke anymore.

The church, oddly, was usually one of Miranda’s favorite places. She sat in the back to avoid nasty looks and mutterings from the congregation, but the priest was always kind to her and the ghosts tended to at least respect the sanctity of the church, if not outright avoid it.

The service lasted all morning and Miranda basked in the quiet and peacefulness while she was in there. The murmur of the congregation was soothing and even if she never dared to sing too loud and draw attention to herself, Miranda adored the hymns. Her parents sat beside her and for once, Liesel was relaxed at Miranda’s side and not holding herself tense and angry beside her. The sun shone through the windows, filing the room with a warm, golden light.

Miranda took a deep, quiet breath and allowed herself a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a time jump here and Miranda gets a small bit of positivity this chapter because honestly I think she needs it.
> 
> Sorry for the delay! Next chapter will hopefully be up much sooner than this one was! As always, your patience, support and feedback is appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely pleased with this but I wanted to get it out before it sat forever on my computer. Let me know what you thought!


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